The Perfect Kentrosaurus
by happyharper13
Summary: -"Well, I'm sure you two have an understanding about... um, his dinosaur and your dresses." "Actually, we don't," she replied slowly. "And that's the problem." Greg/Riley UST. Implied GSR and unrequited SaraGreg. Silliness.


For Challenge #8 over at the Fanfiction Critique Group (which everyone should check out; there's a link on my profile page)...

1. Must include the phrase "I just don't know." Or the phrase "Shake it like a polaroid picture."  
2. Must be between 990 and 9,990 words.  
3. May be any rating greater than K+ and less than MA.  
4. Must involve a fight. Interpret at will (as always).  
5. Must involve a secret. (Optional.)  
6. Must include two selected lyrics from the FCG. (Mine are "Evil is a distinctive smell" and "I'm in every kind of trouble").

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The Perfect Kentrosaurus

She stared at it. _Glared_ at it. It stared back. It didn't seem capable of actually glaring. It was too nice. Too innocent. Kind, innocent, friendly and unassuming -- just like its owner.

It didn't look as embarrassed as it ought to have looked.

Then again, stegosauruses probably didn't know very much about dresses, or the humiliations associated with dresses of the particularly pink and frilly persuasion.

She pulled at the fabric.

It wouldn't budge.

"Shit," she spoke aloud. "How am I going to explain this to Greg?"

"Explain what?"

She whirled around, surprised to see Nick in the doorway, holding what looked to be assignment sheets.

"Umm, nothing. Umm --"

"Are you finished with the 406 yet?"

"That's -- uh -- that's actually what I'm working on right now."

Nick nodded. "Isn't that dress from the scene?"

"Yes."

"What's it doing on Greg's dinosaur?"

"I was trying to mimic the circumstances. You know -- run a simulation."

"Oh," Nick said, understanding clearly dawning. "The girl's doll. She said her mom threw her doll at the window."

Riley nodded. "The doll was approximately the same size -- and, strangely enough, build -- as Greg's dinosaur toy. But we couldn't find the doll when we searched. We only found her dress. I wanted to test out whether the doll would actually be able to break through the window and cause the glass fragments that we found at the scene."

"And did it?"

"Yes."

"So the break-in was staged?"

Riley nodded. "The doll was a big enough force to cause the window to shatter, and it was a way to avoid leaving behind DNA or fingerprints of any kind. We went back and interviewed the mother again, and it turns out she'd sold the family jewelry to pay for the new flatscreen. Something about wanting to watch some hot doctors kiss in high definition. We found the remains of the actual doll in the next-door neighbor's dog house. Sadly for little Suzie Mason, it wasn't salvageable."

Nick rolled his eyes. "People these days..." He glanced at the dinosaur again. "But the dinosaur..."

"Was the same size as the doll. I figured it would work to imitate the conditions."

"Yeah, I got that. But the dress?"

"I wanted to see whether it would leave fabric on the window fragments."

Nick nodded. "The dinosaur's still wearing a dress."

"Yeah..." Riley began. "That's kind of the problem..."

Nick sighed. "You used superglue, didn't you?"

Riley grimaced.

"Did you get Greg's permission to use the dinosaur in the first place?"

She shook her head. "He had said that everything in the office -- at least on his side -- was anyone's to use..."

Nick nodded before glancing around the room again -- his eyes focusing in on the dinosaur and then on Riley's guilty form. "Well," he said, hesitantly, biting his lip. "Good luck with that."

His message was clear. _I would _not_ want to be you right now._

She could still smell the superglue. Evil had a distinctive smell.

----

"Hey, Riley?"

She turned around to find Catherine staring at her with a raised eyebrow and a very suspicious expression.

An expression somewhere along the lines of 'What trouble have my CSIs gotten up to lately,' 'What trouble has that uppity, newfangled, trouble-prone CSI 2 managed to stir up now,' 'How the heck am I gonna clean up _this_ mess' and, most likely, 'How the heck did said uppity, newfangled, trouble-prone CSI 2 manage to superglue a piece of evidence -- particularly a pink doll's dress found at the scene of the latest burglary -- to Greg's stegosaurus'.

Riley blushed and tilted her head, trying to cover the animal with her head. It was no use. The darn thing was too big.

"Is that Sara's dinosaur?"

Deer in the headlights. She knew that's what she was. She stuttered for a few seconds before replying -- hopefully coherently -- "Sara's?"

Catherine nodded. Her face was harsh. In a condescending, I'm-glad-I'm-not-you way. "She gave it to Greg. As a goodbye gift. I think she got it in Costa Rica. He's had that thing since then. Always kept it somewhere, even when he didn't have space in his locker. I think he talks to it sometimes." Catherine paused -- taking the time to stare wistfully off into space. "It means a lot to Greg. He and Sara were really close."

Riley glanced nervously between the dinosaur and Catherine.

"That dress doesn't seem quite like Sara's style. Or Greg's."

Riley shook her head quickly -- a little too quickly.

"You didn't get his permission, did you?"

Riley didn't respond, but just continued to stare at Catherine.

Catherine raised her eyebrows. "Well, I wouldn't want to be you right now, missy. You're in all kinds of trouble if he finds out."

Riley nodded, still not speaking.

_Shit._

She hadn't realized that the doll was actually special to Greg. But she should have been able to guess it. Why else would a grown man hold on to a dinosaur toy -- and at his office, no less? In an otherwise sterile, nondescript office, the dinosaur was the one spark of whimsy, of personality. And Riley had ruined it.

She hadn't even known it was superglue.

She buried her face in her hands. She'd only been there for six months and she'd already found a way to hurt her coworker. She had carelessly taken something of a coworker's, earning her -- no doubt -- the disapproval of Nick and Catherine. And then there was Greg... Sweet, kind, funny Greg. Cute Greg. But that was beside the point. He was the one who had, all along, been the nicest to her. He'd made the biggest effort to help her fit in. In the wake of a close colleague's death -- a close colleague who was regarded as family at the Lab -- he had been the one to reach out to her. To make her feel accepted despite the fact that she was, in many ways, Warrick Brown's replacement.

And now she had broken his favorite toy. His last link to the Lab's past. To Sara Sidle. And probably Grissom too.

She hadn't realized that the bottle had contained superglue.

------------

"What is that?"

She turned around, surprised to see Ray hesitating in front of the office door. His expression was one of genuine, thoughtful curiosity. Maybe he could actually help her with her dilemma.

"Ummm... it's..."

"It's a ouranosaurus." He seemed to be the only person that didn't react to the pink dress. He moved inside the room, apparently to study the curious find more carefully. In a few steps, he was standing next to her -- though at a respectfully cautious distance of about a foot.

"I -- I'm fairly certain it's actually a stegosaurus."

He nodded, though his expression remained suspicious. In her short time working with Ray, Riley was proud to have finally learned to decode his generally judicious facial expressions. In his extensive time as a physician -- which probably consisted of breaking hard news to many persons -- he had developed a very good poker face. Either that or he just had a natural aptitude for exuding calm in a way she had rarely seen before. Still, especially after their wonderful escapade involving being held hostage in a PCP lab, she had learned how to tell when he was hiding genuine concern or suspicion. It was all in the way he bit his lip and looked slightly off to the left.

And now, he, just like everyone else, was suspicious and concerned. And curious. And probably amused. She hadn't decoded Ray's hiding-laughter face yet. Now would probably be a good time to start, Riley decided.

Once she explained the pink-frilly-dress-donning stegosaurus, of course.

Ray cleared his throat. His expression morphed through almost-imperceptable changes in his eyebrows' and lips' position. "I... uh -- I didn't realize you were into costuming. Or, err, dolls. Or dinosaurs."

"I'm not."

He looked up at her, an eyebrow almost raised. Another expression of curiosity, she noted. Ray had a lot of those.

"I'm not into dinosaurs," she repeated. "Or dolls and stuff."

He remained silent, waiting for the explanation.

"It's Greg's."

"Ah," he said, appearing momentarily enlightened. "Is Greg into... umm... pink Victorian dresses --" He seemed to reconsider his question. "Actually, never mind. It's none of my business."

Riley admired his restraint. It was hard not to be curious about a colleague's closet -- or now seemingly not-so-closet -- hobby of dressing up dinosaurs.

But he was an investigator, so he'd probably find out eventually. Plus, she had a feeling that Ray, in all of his judicious objectivity, as well as in his default alliance with Riley as a fellow newcomer, would be the one person who wouldn't give her a hard time.

"Actually, he isn't. I put the dress on it."

"Ah," Ray said, raising his head in an almost-nod. Riley could see the information fitting its way into his understanding of the situation. "And you... --" He seemed to be battling his curiosity once more as he paused, seemingly struggling over the appropriate words once again. This time, he settled for biting his lip and replying simply: "Well, I'm sure you two have an understanding about... um, his dinosaur and your dresses." She could tell that the words hadn't come out quite as he had hoped as he furrowed his brow.

"Actually, we don't," she replied slowly. "And that's the problem."

"Ah. I see." He seemed content to settle for the awkward silence that followed.

"I just don't know what to do," she blurted. "How much trouble am I in?"

"Well..." He replied thoughtfully. He paused again in consideration before continuing deliberately. "It's probably not that important to him -- not that that should negate the significance of vandalizing a coworker's property. Then again, if it was in the process of working on a case, I'm sure he'd understand. And I'm sure you had perfectly good reasons."

"Yeah. But it's still superglued. And I think it _does_ mean a lot to him. He got it from Sara Sidle as a goodbye gift. Or something like that."

"You don't know what kind of relationship Greg and Sara had. It could have been more of a joking gift."

Riley nodded. "I'd say I'm still screwed."

"Well..." Ray was interrupted by his pager. "I'm never gonna get used to these things," he said, looking down at the beeping device.

"Didn't you use them when you worked at a hospital?"

"Yes."

"How long did you work there?"

"Twenty years."

"And you're still not used to them?"

He shook his head. "There's just something so... impersonal about them. I'd rather talk to people face-to-face. Resolve problems in person."

Riley nodded. She could see his point. And she knew what she had to do.

"Well, I've gotta get going," she replied. "I've gotta go talk to Greg."

"Good luck with that," he replied with a smile.

She had clearly underestimated his propensity for subtle and insightful hints.

---------

She found Greg in the break room, laughing with Catherine about something. Clearly, the supervisor was leaving it up to Riley to break the news.

"Umm, Greg."

He looked up at her from the couch. "Hey, Riley. What's up?"

"I... um... need to talk to you."

He seemed to sense her apprehension. "What about?"

"Umm." She stuttered before issuing a blanket statement in the hopes of averting the impending crisis for just a little bit longer. And in the hopes of keeping that friendly smile on his face for just a little bit longer. "Um, it's complicated. Can I talk to you in private?"

Greg nodded slowly, clearly sifting through the words. He got up swiftly and moved toward Riley. "Where to, Sanders?" he asked with an awkward chuckle. She loved how he still kept up their little gag from the hostage crisis.

"Um... how about the office?" Then she thought about the idea. And saw his smile once again. No, she wasn't ready to break the news first. Better to transition slowly to the problem. Very, verrryy slowly.

He seemed to notice her trepidation -- she wasn't actually moving toward the office, but was instead standing still in thought. "So... the office?"

"No! No, actually... how about that room over there?" She pointed to the first empty room she saw.

"That would be the DNA lab," Greg replied sagely. "One of my favorite places." He grinned. "Wendy's out today," he added.

Riley nodded. "Sounds perfect."

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing as they entered the room and closed the door.

"How close were you to Sara?"

Greg looked back, startled. It had seemed like the logical question, but his expression told her that it was a bit more complicated than that. He glanced up, unsure, at Riley. His stare was intense and uncomfortable. But Riley didn't avert her eyes. She wasn't really sure why.

"Close. I guess," Greg replied. "Why?"

"Like, really close?"

"Um..." He glanced around nervously. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

"She meant a lot to you."

"Yeah. Yeah, she did." He caught her gaze again with a look of sincerity. "She was really important to me."

Silence.

"Riley, not to be rude or anything, but... why are you asking me this?"

"Because the stegosaurus she gave you has a frilly pink dress superglued to it. You said everything in the office was fair game, and I needed something of that size for an experiment. I thought it was the good kind of glue -- the kind that came off. Turned out that I used superglue."

Greg looked back at her with an inscrutable expression.

"I'm really, really sorry. I didn't realize --"

"It's not a stegosaurus. It's a kentrosaurus."

Riley stared blank faced. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Did you just make that word up?"

"Nope," Greg replied. His tone wasn't even harsh or bitter. "I was working this case with Sara. At a carnival."

He moved to sit down on the DNA counter, and scooted over so that Riley could join him. She did so cautiously.

"I really... idolized her."

Riley raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, that's not quite the right word. She was awesome. And beautiful. And smart." He paused, before adding quickly, "And totally out of my league."

Riley wanted to respond to the last comment, but she refrained, not wanting to risk ending whatever trance left Greg with the inclination to open up to her on such a topic.

"So, we were at this carnival. A woman had been found beaten, near death, on one of the rides. It got to Sara. That sort of thing... always got to Sara. Anything that reeked of domestic abuse. A lot of the bruising was old. The woman died on the operating table.

"I wanted to brighten up Sara's day. We flirted. Sometimes. It was mostly me, but sometimes she flirted back." He stared off into space. "I lived for those moments," he said happily, but wistfully. "I was the -- the dorky lab tech. DNA tech. And Sara was... well, I guess I already said what she was. Perfect. At least as far as I was concerned.

"We were done with the case, and the carnival was just re-opening. The manager gave us free dibs on any ride or kiosk we wanted. Sara wanted to leave, but I convinced her that I'd show her a good time." He paused for a second. "Not in the sketchy way, I mean. Though... well, never mind.

"It's lame..." he started.

"No, it's not," Riley responded automatically.

He looked at her, amused. "I haven't even told you what said _it_ is yet."

"Oh."

"Back in high school, there was that stereotype. You know?"

Riley said nothing.

"Oh, I haven't told you which one it is yet, anyway." He laughed. "Silly me.

"Anyway, there was this stereotype. Of winning a prize at the fair or carnival for your girlfriend. A show of macho bravado translated into a tangible prize. Kinda like species of beetles that show off for the female to attract -- well, I've apparently spent too much time around Grissom. But, you know that... idea. Right?"

Riley nodded.

"I wanted to do that. To bring her back to being young and innocent, ya know? Without a care in the world." He paused before laughing, more to himself than to Riley. "And I wanted to fulfill my old high school dreams. I always wanted to be the... _that_ guy. The one who could actually successfully knock over the six tin cans to win the prize for his girl. You know?"

Riley just nodded again.

"Well, I finally convinced Sara to stay there with me. It would have been kind of lame to hang out at a carnival by myself. It took a promise of sharing my next three bags of Blue Hawaiian with her." He chuckled at the memory.

"Blue Hawaiian?"

"Coffee." Greg stared into space again and seemed to be talking to himself. "I never make it anymore." He seemed slightly shocked by the latter statement. "Don't know why."

"So, you went to the carnival?"

"Uh huh. And I won her a dinosaur."

"Like the one that's now --"

"It _is_ the one that's now... well, apparently dressed up in a pink dress."

"But I thought Sara gave it to _you_."

"She did. Or, rather, she returned it to me. A few years later. After she told me about her and Grissom. It was her way of sending me a message. She didn't want me to keep trying, flirting, asking her out. So she gave me the dinosaur back."

"That's kind of harsh."

"Eh." Greg shrugged. "It's kinda Sara also. She was blunt. And it got the message across."

"That's a kind of depressing message to keep around."

He turned to look at her, quirking an eyebrow in an accusatory expression. "Well, I suppose it looks a little less depressing with a pink frilly dress on it, eh?"

Riley bit her lip and stifled a laugh.

He turned back around and shook his head. She couldn't quite tell if it was in amusement or aggravation, but she was banking on the former.

"So you keep it because..."

"Honestly... I have no idea. Sometimes, I like having it because it's a connection to Sara. Other times, it's a reminder not to get too caught up in chasing something... well, in chasing something that's not attainable. But, I think, more than anything, it's because, no matter what, I still won it." He paused, seemingly to reconsider. "And it's fun. It's different than the other stuff people keep. Mostly, though, I think I keep it because I haven't gotten around to getting rid of it."

Riley stifled a chuckle, but Greg turned around -- clearly noticing.

"What?" he asked with a smirk.

"Nothing."

He nodded slowly, clearly suspicious. "I'm not getting rid of her just because you gave her a dress, just so you know."

"It's a 'her'?" Riley asked, dumbfounded.

"Well, with that dress, do you really think it could be a 'him'?"

Riley shook her head before almost jumping when Greg hopped off the counter, opened the door and yelled back across the hallway at a congregation of lab techs by the water cooler. "Oh my goodness! It's a girl! It's a GIRL!"

Both CSIs got a rise out of the lab techs' curious, slightly startled stares in response.

"I never do that anymore," he whispered to her as they made their way out of the room. "Razz the lab techs. Cause general mayhem."

Riley couldn't help laughing as she followed him out to the office. "You're quite the proud parent, Greg."

"Too bad I couldn't get maternity leave," he replied with a resigned shrug.

Riley blinked. "Umm... If it's from Sara..."

Greg stared confused at her for a second before his face not-quite-lit-up in realization. "Sara giving birth to a dinosaur. Now why does that make more sense than it should?"

"If Sara's in Costa Rica, it's gonna be kind of hard to get child support payments out of her," Riley noted.

"My poor baby's gonna grow up without a mommy," Greg replied sadly as he made his way over to the desk -- and the dinosaur. The expression on his face reminded Riley of a kicked puppy. Or a rejected kindergartner.

"Does your dinosaur need a mommy, Greg?"

He nodded, his face still crestfallen.

"Well, since I already bought baby his -- _her_ -- first clothes..."

Greg looked up in faux melodramatic enthusiasm. "Will you be the mother of my child, Riley Adams?!"

Riley smiled back. "Yes, Greg Sanders. I will be the mother of your dinosaur."

"The other little baby dinosaurs will all be jealous of her cool clothes," Greg replied, looking proudly at his pseudo-spawn.

"No doubt. But I'm gonna have to find her some jeans eventually. She's gonna hit teenage angst sooner than you think."

"Good luck finding the right size."

"Are you implying that our child is fat, Greg?"

He looked like kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "No! No, of course not!" He struggled to fix his words. "She's the perfect size." His face turned reflecting. "Perfect," he repeated. "The perfect kentrosaurus."

* * *

Please review? I'm thinking about making this a multi-chap fic, as part of a general slowly developing Greg/Riley multi-chapter fluff fic. What I can't decide is how much unrequited sexual tension there will be. I adore UST but have seen very few fics comprised entirely of it.


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